Chapter 3

The storm finally broke.

Heavy rain slammed against the windshield, sounding like it wanted to crack the glass.

The heater in the truck was blasting warm air.

Leo glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his voice filled with gentle concern. "Ma'am, do you want to close your eyes and get some sleep?"

I shook my head. "No, thank you."

How could I possibly sleep?

This highway, this road... every mile was paved with memories.

A two-day drive.

This was the highway to Savannah, but it was also the exact route Ethan and I had taken during our road trips when we were madly in love.

I couldn't escape the ghosts of our past.

The truck sped forward, and a green highway sign flashed past.

[Blue Ridge Mountains Scenic Area — Next Exit]

My heart clenched violently.

Five years ago, when I still had my legs, I could run and jump.

Ethan had carried me on his back, step by step, all the way to the peak of the mountain.

He had whispered in my ear, "Just a little further, Chloe. We’re almost at the top."

The wind at the peak was freezing, making me shiver.

He had immediately taken off his heavy coat, wrapping me tightly against his warm chest.

"Chloe, look. The sunrise."

Golden light broke through the ocean of clouds, painting the sky in brilliant hues of pink and gold.

I had leaned against his racing heartbeat, believing that moment would last forever.

He had told me, "As long as I'm here, you'll never have to face the cold wind alone."

But now, the man who promised to shelter me from the storm had become another woman’s harbor.

"Leo," I said, my throat incredibly tight.

"Can we go faster?"

Leo blinked, then nodded heavily, stepping hard on the gas.

The dark silhouette of the mountains was quickly swallowed by the night behind us.

On the first night, we stopped briefly at a highway rest stop.

I had no appetite, but Leo kindly bought me a hot cup of instant noodles from the convenience store.

As the steam rose, I stared out into the pitch-black night, suddenly remembering another meal.

Three years ago, we had taken a road trip to a historic town.

Our car had broken down in the middle of nowhere, miles away from any town.

We had walked for what felt like miles before finding a tiny, glowing 24-hour roadside diner.

The sweet elderly waitress had served us fresh pancakes with butter and hot maple syrup. It was simple, but it tasted like heaven.

Ethan had pushed the plate toward me, cutting the pancakes into neat little bites and blowing on them gently.

"Careful, honey. It's hot."

I had teased him, "Mr. Carter, the billionaire, eating at a greasy diner?"

He had pinched my nose playfully, his eyes overflowing with love. "I'm not the CEO right now. I'm just your husband."

"Chloe, the life I want is incredibly simple. Just a cozy house, three meals a season, and you. That's more than enough."

...

"Ma'am? Ma'am?"

Leo’s voice pulled me back from the edge of my memories.

I blinked, realizing the cup of noodles in my hand had gone completely cold.

"Sorry. I got distracted."

I set the fork down. I couldn't swallow another bite.

It turned out those sweet vows were just like this cup of noodles.

When they were hot, they warmed your soul. But once they went cold, they only made you sick to your stomach.

By the second day, the rain had stopped.

The truck drove onto a massive suspension bridge over a shimmering river.

"Look, ma'am! That's the Hudson River Bridge. The city lights look amazing from here!" Leo said, trying to cheer me up.

I stared out the window, silent.

How could I ever forget this bridge?

Five years ago, on this very bridge, I had accepted his proposal.

After the car accident, I had locked myself in my hospital room for weeks, refusing to see the light of day.

But Ethan had "smuggled" me out of the hospital, pushing my wheelchair right to the middle of this bridge.

The wind whipped my hair across my face as I stared down at my empty pant legs, feeling utterly hopeless.

"Ethan, just go," I had sobbed. "I don't want to be a burden to you."

Instead of leaving, he had suddenly dropped to one knee right in front of my mangled, bandaged limbs.

His eyes were brighter than the stars reflecting on the river below.

He held up a diamond ring, his voice steady and solemn:

"Chloe, marry me."

"You are the only woman I will ever want in this life."

"Your legs are my legs. Wherever you want to go, I will carry you there."

My tears finally broke free, hot and heavy, splashing onto the back of my hands.

I thought I had cried all my tears.

But it turned out that when your heart breaks completely, you lose all control over your grief.

I bit my lip hard, refusing to let a single sob escape my throat.

Seeing this in the rearview mirror, Leo silently pushed a box of tissues toward the backseat.

"Ma'am..." He wanted to comfort me, but he didn't know what to say.

I shook my head, grabbed a tissue, and roughly wiped my face.

Right then, the phone buried deep in my purse—which I thought I had turned off—suddenly buzzed.

The screen lit up with a text message.

It was from the name carved deep into my heart, the same name I was currently trying to rip out.

The message was brief:

"Chloe, stop throwing a tantrum. Where are you? Come home right now!"

I stared at the words and laughed out loud.

You see?

This was the man I had loved for five years.

He didn't ask why I had left. He didn't ask if I was okay.

He simply thought I was throwing a tantrum.

Slowly, deliberately, I typed out a two-word reply:

"Fuck off."

Then, I blocked his number and shut down the phone.

I lifted my head and looked out the front windshield.

In the distance, the warm, golden light of the Southern dawn was finally breaking.

***